


The Silence Will Last

by lightningwaltz



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, and other such shenanigans, breaking vows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2012-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 22:37:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningwaltz/pseuds/lightningwaltz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>She comes to realize she's never known the bitter sting of true loneliness before.</i> Written for the Porn Battle XIII</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Silence Will Last

In the evenings, winter winds pummel Val's tower with the force of a giant's fist. The structure is strong, despite nature's bombardment, and never yields. The builders amongst those earliest crows had done their work, and done it proper.

Every so often, there's something mournful about the way the gusts sound. Far too akin to a human cry for comfort. Val imagines it's the soul of her sister, crying to her from the realm of death. When Dalla's life had bled out before Val's horrified eyes, her sister had seemingly made peace with her fate. Childbirth was a dangerous business, potentially as lethal as the war that raged around them. The sounds of battle had drowned out her sister's final words, but when Val had bent her head, she was certain Dalla was assuring her that she'd led a good life. That she passed on with few regrets. 

No, Val is certain that her sister, had she words to speak, would be sickened at the thought of entrusting her son to two strangers. The girl is kind and braver than the men realize (Val will miss Gilly), and Samwell Tarly seems better than most crows

And yet, they are taking the son of Dalla and Mance Raydar far to the South, into the realm of castles and cages. Val would not get to raise her own sister's child to adulthood.

 _What if they named him before the proper age?_

"Oh, I am the last of the giants," Val sings to herself, when the wind falls silent. "My people are gone from the earth..."

*****

They weren't _all_ gone, of course. Somewhere the survivors gather around Tormund Giantsbane. Somewhere, the crows hold Mance captive, while the Southron king formulates plans for him. 

But, in those weeks when Val is held captive, she comes to realize she's never known the bitter sting of true loneliness before. For years it had been her and Dalla, clever and cunning and capable of hunting down all manner of prey. And then there had been Mance, who had been so unfailingly good to Val's sister. 

She misses Ygritte's spirited singing, and the way Jarl had kissed Val on cold nights.

Having lost them all, to death or captivity, Val's identity is as nebulous as a storm tossed cloud.

 *****

The Night's Watch- eager as any Southroners to categorize and tie down- have started to name her 'princess.' They plan her marriage, without ever consulting her. Or so Gilly says, a few days before she's due to journey on. The younger girl had whispered the news, staring down at a burn on her finger. 

Val knows devastatingly effective ways to kill a person. She can attack with knife, bow, hands, and even her nails. The stone walls keep her from running, it's true, but that won't matter if her intended husband is dead. She keeps placid and calm, the way these crows seem to like their women, but her behavior should not be confused with compliance.

She is surprised when Jon Snow admits to her that the Southron king had offered her to him. She is even more surprised when Jon tells her that he refused the offer. 

"How can he not know you crows never marry?" 

"Oh, he _knows_." Jon has slipped into the guise of Lord Commander as easily as he had worn the mask of Night's Watch deserter. Val wonders how much of this role is a lie, as well. "He's just hoping to circumvent that detail." 

Val bites back the urge to tease him and point out that Jon had happily circumvented his way into a spearwife's bed before. But the thought of Ygritte makes her sad, and Jon seems to be mourning her still. 

Val remembers that Jon had been a part of her faction of free folk, and that part of her spirit still feels that unshakeable kinship. 

"How did you turn him down?" she asks, curiously.

The corner of Jon's mouth turns up. "Among other things, I told King Stannis that you can't just _tell_ a wildling woman she's getting married." 

"I would have fought back," Val says, cheerfully. "Even against you."

"I'm certain you would have won."

And they both laugh, though there's very little that's truly funny about it.

*****

Val's restrictions are loosened over time, and one night Jon comes to visit her. It's quite soon after he's sent Dalla's babe away, soon after he executed some traitor. From what Val can see, that seems to be the sum total of a Lord Commander's duties: sparing lives, ending lives.

Jon is as guarded as ever, but he rambles on and on about the route that Sam and Gilly will take. He speaks of seas, islands, and cities with towers that must reach the sky. Towers that easily dwarf Val's new home. 

She realizes that, in his way, Jon is almost apologizing to her. Of a certainty, he's trying to assure her that he didn't toss her nephew out into the wilderness to die; Jon has _plans_. He's in command. Fear and uncertainty is a luxury for the both of them.

The torches in the room lights up the golden strands of Val's hair. Among her people, pale tresses cause a great deal of debate (they were not as clear a blessing as Ygritte's red curls had been.) Some think children with light hair are particularly in tune with the summer. Others muttered darkly of the Others, paler than death, the lot of them, insisting she must carry some of their blood in her veins. 

Val remembers how one White Walker had taken the form of a beautiful woman and ensnared a Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. But when she leans forward and kisses Jon Snow, all she can think of is how very mortal they both are. 

_We can die at any time._

Jon mutters protests, but fewer than she expects. She guides him to the floor, and lies astride him. She likes the feel of him, solid and tangible between her thighs, and she sighs out his name (and not his title.) 

"I can't-"

"You can," she whispers in his ear, trying to absolve him of the need to control for this brief space of time. "Just... let this happen, Jon. If you want it. You can go back to being Lord Commander soon enough." 

He grabs onto her for the first time, and kisses her back (kisses her strong and well; Ygritte had been a good teacher, it would seem.) It's as though something in Jon has relaxed and he helps her in the process of discarding their clothing. Val sinks back down onto him, letting his cock fill her. As she rocks back and forth, she puts on hand on Jon's mouth to muffle his cries; Val has already had practice keeping quiet during lovemaking. Waking others up could earn you a week of ribald jokes. 

Nowadays, being overheard could potentially have far worse consequences for the both of them.

Jon's hands cling to her hips, but Val sets the pace. She can feel her climax building within her, and when she comes the sensation is strong enough to drown out her awareness of the howling wind.


End file.
